Tropical storm Melissa is passing
300nm north of us and forecast to strengthen to a major hurricane
affecting Jamaica in the next few days. We are safe in our hurricane
hole despite the wind blowing hard. Our anchor is set rock solid in
10 metres of water; it’s been tested by strong winds since we
arrived ten days ago.
Whilst
our anchor was set firmly the catamaran anchored in front of us
wasn’t. At 2.30am we were woken by soft voices close to our
bedroom window at the back of the boat. We looked out to find the
bow of a catamaran less than a metre behind our stern with a man and
woman flailing with fenders. They were talking in whispers, trying
not to wake us. Not far enough behind them is a dangerous rocky
shore. What the hell!
How
had they got so close behind without hitting us?
We
swung immediately into action mode. Clothes on, lights on, engine on,
instruments on, two way radio headsets on. On deck we found that the
catamaran’s anchor chain was directly under our hull. Of course,
the wind is blowing 20 knots plus, but at least there’s no rain.
David
suggests that they release their chain snubber to allow them to drop
back away from us but the owners are French and there’s a language
difficulty. Hand signals and pointing help. They seem to have no
idea of what to do so David takes command.
Our
plan is to motor forward, lifting our chain allowing them to also
drive forward and retrieve their chain and anchor. That was the plan
until I’d pulled up 15m of our chain and find their anchor appear
at the surface firmly hooked on our chain. I couldn’t free it, but
with superhuman strength David leans over the bow and holds their
25kg anchor up while I lower our chain to free the tangle. We return
to motoring forward being aware there is another innocent yacht now
on our beam.
We
lift another 15m of chain and finally turn to see the offending
catamaran is turning and motoring away. They’re gone and we are
safe.
Fortunately
we didn’t have to lift our anchor off the seabed. Trusting it is
still hard set, we let out the anchor chain to find we are now in
shallower water and at least10m further back than we were. The only
conclusion is that when their anchor snagged our chain they dragged
us backwards. For now we are okay, we’ll re-anchor in daylight.
The
catamaran disappears into the night and David sits in the cockpit
until dawn monitoring our position. He doesn’t want us to drag
onto the shore.
Next
morning we’re tired, having breakfast when Frenchman and woman
arrive in their dinghy. I thought they might have come check for any
damage and to apologise, but no. They have come back to find their
anchor and chain that they dumped! Apparently the skipper cut the
line and let them go instead of trying to lift them. Now we going to
help them find their anchor.
It
takes until early afternoon. Their dinghy is tied to our stern while
the skipper dives searching the sea bed ahead and around us. At last
he surfaces with a line attached to the anchor under our bow. This
tells us that they must only have had 30m of chain out in 10m depth
(the standard ratio is 5:1 scope). Back in the dinghy Gwen and his
girlfriend Maria try to haul it up and into their dinghy. When this
doesn’t work David and I haul on the line to lift from our deck,
mostly David heaving 25kgs plus chain and me tailing the line. We’re
able to lower it into their dinghy leaving them to hand haul the
remaining chain into their boat. When that is done they wave adios,
depart and we are finally able to re-anchor back where we were a day
ago.
The
end of the story is Gwen and Maria invited us for drinks aboard Para
Di of Guadeloupe as a thank you for all our help. It was entente
cordiale with wine, Brittany galettes and Gwen playing his saxophone
and accordion.
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